


A First Time Worth Waiting For

by LeftHandersRule



Category: Outlast (Video Games)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Play, Anal Sex, Anal Virgin, Anxiety, Anxiety Disorder, Blow Jobs, Denial of Feelings, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Friends to Lovers, Gentle Kissing, Kissing, Licking, M/M, Miles is trying, Neck Kissing, Nipple Licking, Nipple Play, Orgasm, Past Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Post-Mount Massive Asylum, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rimming, Rough Kissing, Top Miles, bottom waylon, mentions of eddie gluskin - Freeform, mentions of enemies to friends, mentions of richard trager, miles upshur is trying to be nice for once, waylon park has panic attacks, waylon park is a cutie, waylon park misses his wife
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-04-07
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:14:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23520646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LeftHandersRule/pseuds/LeftHandersRule
Summary: Miles and Waylon finally get the time they need to take their relationship to an amazing level.
Relationships: Waylon Park/Miles Upshur
Comments: 3
Kudos: 70





	A First Time Worth Waiting For

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this a while ago but decided to post it now, it was my second time writing smut I believe. Lots of sex stuff, I might delete this later anyways, so please be kind. 
> 
> -Side Note: There is a brief mention of attempted rape and panic attacks, so if that is triggering for you please don't read. Stay safe :)

"Are you sure you want to?"

Miles stood in the door frame. He had met the eyes of Waylon, as he himself rested his arm in the doorway. He was wearing his typical stern expression which was accompanied by his normal attire; tan-white polo shirt, brown jacket, torn jeans and an old worn out pair of combat boots. He wanted to laugh when Waylon had jumped at the sound of his voice. He didn’t understand that his voice was very deep, so deep it was thick in the air. Waylon had been sitting on the edge of the twin sized motel bed. They’ve been traveling a lot for this past year and a half, so cheap motels were the best they could do. However, this one was rather shitty, in both of their opinions. The carpet was stained and torn up in several places. It was obvious people smuggled in dogs or cats, because of the urine stains and possibly feces stains. In some corners the carpet was seemingly torn off, exposing the wood beneath. The wallpaper was also stained and peeling off, curtains old and thin, half burned out light bulb and a lingering smell of old cigarette smoke in the air. Miles didn’t mind the smell of smoke that bad, being a smoker himself, but Waylon had wrinkled his nose upon getting a whiff of the room. 

Waylon looked to Miles. Miles had sure enough startled him. Before Miles spoke, Waylon had been zoning out, thinking about what he had agreed on. The two of them had a rocky start upon first meeting. After the escape of Mount Massive, the two practically hated each other. Though over time, they began to bond, especially since they had to travel together and cover their tracks from the Murkoff corporation. Since the Walrider has taken Miles as a host, he’s had a hard time with his hormones. Sometimes he gets so angry he wanted to slaughter anyone within arms reach, but other times he gets so horny he could fuck anything. Waylon has had to support him through this hormonal imbalance for the entirety they’ve been traveling together. Once they started to bond, Miles started coming on to Waylon, and he didn’t exactly be subtle about it. He straight up propositioned to have sex with him, to which Waylon declined. 

At first Waylon refused to think of he and Miles getting intimate, but after them getting to know each other and learning about each other's past, their interests and gaining an unexplainable understanding, perhaps attraction to one another, Waylon felt like Miles was desirable. A few weeks ago the two of them had been making out and Miles had asked him if he could have sex with him, and before Waylon could think he had agreed to the offer. Miles had nearly taken Waylon right then and there, but they had heard gunshots outside which had ruined their mood. Now they finally had time to get down and dirty. Waylon eyed Miles, who was seemingly waiting for his answer. Waylon flushed and started fiddling with his brown curls. 

“Yes,” he spoke in a soft, shy voice. He smiled up to Miles, who was now entering the room, closing the creaky door behind him. Miles really hated this motel, it was definitely one of the worse ones they had rented out, but at least they’d be gone by morning. The longest they’ve stayed in a motel for was four days. Despite his hate for this room, seeing Waylon on the bed, knowing where this was going, he could be back in that damned asylum again for all he’d care. Miles eyed the smaller male, checking him out, thinking about how he’d remove each article of clothing from him, one by one. If he found the patience of course. Part of him wanted to tear them off all at once. Waylon was wearing a baby blue zip up hoodie, which hid a white button up shirt underneath. If Miles hadn’t seen the shirt earlier, his only hint would’ve been that the while collar was poking out from the neckline of the hoodie. On his legs he was wearing tan slacks and on his feet he had his typical black converse sneakers. Call Miles a pervert, but all he wanted was to see Waylon’s thin, nude frame spread out on the bed, hot and sweating, begging for Miles. The larger male already began removing his jacket before he even was near Waylon. 

Waylon watched as Miles stepped in front of him, so close their feet nearly touched. Miles stared down at him, brown eyes dark and full of mischief and lust. His dark brown hair was still swept back, except for that one rebellious flick of hair that never seemed to listen. It instead caressed his right brow, which now felt so sensual and that goddamn smirk on Miles’ lips. Miles reached behind him, hooked his shirt by his fingers and tore the fabric off and over his head. He tossed it aside near the edge of the bed and watched for a reaction from Waylon. Waylon’s eyes widened and his cheeks once again turned rosy. His eyes explored Miles. He was used to seeing him shirtless, but now that they were gonna fool around, it’s like he’s really seeing him. 

Miles had a strong, stocky body. He was big boned and tall. He stood around 6’3” and had wide boxy shoulders. His deltoids were thick and led into his wide biceps and forearms. He had naturally tanner skin than Waylon, but since Miles loved being shirtless, his body was nicely browned from the sun’s rays kissing his skin. His abs were tightly formed into muscles, which effortlessly flowed into his pecs. His nipples were brown in color and a little large for a male, but it didn’t detract from his attractiveness, quite the contrary really. Miles’ body in short looked like as if Michelangelo himself came out of the grave and sculpted this beautifully made body. Even the dark brown hair that decorated his torso gave him an alluring appearance. His pecs had some thin hair dispersed between the two, a little more thickly on his right side than the left. The hair was thin around his nipples and swirled around freely. The hair disappeared mostly until you got down to his navel. The hair returned, this time thicker and darker. The hair flowed further down beyond the recesses of Miles’ jeans. He certainly did look like his body was sculpted, not formed. Waylon snapped out of his mindless hase when he heard Miles snort. He looked up from the tanned abs in front of him to the larger mans face. Miles was grinning, white teeth showing, eyebrow raised and a gleeful, yet lustful look in the eyes. 

“Like what you see?” Miles snickered, and Waylon flushed again. He just realized he was checking Miles out. He was aware he’s done that before, but this was the first time Miles had called him out on it. Though, was Waylon really to blame? Miles was close enough to the sitting Waylon, that if he wanted to, Waylon could lean forward, slightly downward and kiss Miles’ bellybutton. With Miles looking the way he does, it was a given anyone would eye his godlike body. Waylon darted his tongue across his pink, suddenly dry lips. He took another gaze along Miles’ body and looked back up to his face, and to Miles’ surprise, nodded. If Miles wasn’t turned on before, he certainly was now. Waylon could be such a prude, but seeing him admit his own sexual attraction was such a rarity, it made the Walrider inside him quiver with excitement, and Miles could feel his own heart jump start with arousal. He couldn’t help but stare at Waylon's expression, so clueless, almost innocent. He was aware Waylon has had sex before, after all, the man was a father of two, but he knew Waylon had never been with a man before. His purity showed. His sea green eyes wide with curiosity, hair cupping his pink cheeks, warm lips that looked as if they’ve never been kissed before, it awoke the demonic urges Miles had tried to keep within the confines of his belt and jeans.

Miles used a hand to caress one of Waylon's cheeks. They were soft. Miles brushed the hair away with his thumb, revealing more of that cute face Waylon had. Miles leaned over, making the distance between them grow thin. His calloused thumb moved over Waylon's lower lip and rubbed it a few times. His lips were slightly chapped and a little dry, but it wasn’t surprising. Waylon in general is twitchy and awkward, never knowing what to do with his hands, often getting anxious and fumbling with his hair or clothes. At first it irritated Miles, but nowadays he finds it cute, a little bit of a turn on too. Sometimes Miles felt so hot inside that his skin could melt down to the bone, and Waylon is the coals that fuels that feeling, that need. Miles stared deeply at those lips. Waylon responded by dipping his head into his hand more and opening his mouth a little wider, so Miles could see more of him, more inside him. His eyes were half closed and pupils dilated wide, which Miles had noticed but not commented on. That little red tongue, those pearly white teeth, the back to those pink lips. Miles felt as if he was pushed down into Waylon. It was possibly his desire or the Walrider, but at this point, he didn’t care. He gave him a soft kiss. Normally he would give him a hard, deep kiss, but he felt like keeping it tame for now. Maybe he could get Waylon to beg him for more. 

Waylon closed his eyes the second he felt the kiss. Kissing Miles was a lot more exciting to him than he would’ve thought a while back ago. Before he met Miles he thought he was completely and utterly straight, with no doubts or consideration for same sex relationships. He thought his wife Lisa was the only woman, let alone person he could ever develop sexual feelings for. Before her, he wasn’t even planning on dating anyone. Now that he can’t ever see her again, and that Miles has been tempting him in ways he didn’t think was possible, he’s all sorts of confused. Miles still had his hand resting on Waylon's cheek and Waylon decided to do the same. He clasped both of his hands on Miles’ face, pulling him closer and making the kiss deeper. Miles opened his mouth during the kiss and Waylon took it as an invitation to kick things up. He shyly let his tongue lick Miles’ lip, then slide in over his teeth and caress the other man's tongue. The organs wrestled inside Miles’ mouth for a few seconds. Then Miles backed away, leaving Waylon open mouthed and wanting more. They had only kissed once, but Waylon already felt like jelly. 

They made eye contact and the look inside Miles’ eyes were hungry, starved in fact. In his eyes, Waylon was the main course. Miles rose up and stretched out for a moment, his body pulling along with his movement. He put a hand through his own hair, brushing it back before trailing down to his pants. He unbuckled his belt, then his pants, which caused Waylon to watch him with arousal and embarrassment clear on his face. Unzipping them, Miles chuckled to himself, then yanked them down to his ankles. He stepped on the edge of his boots heel and wiggled his foot free, then did the same to the other boot. After being free from those confines, he kicked them away from him, leaving him half naked in a set of red boxers. He was always more comfortable in his boxers. He’s spent hours working out and making his body fit his standards, so why not show his hard work off? He rubbed the back of his neck as he eyed the curly haired male still sitting in front of him. A part of him found it hilarious that Waylon was still fully dressed, perhaps too sexually confused to know he should get undressed himself, but it also made Miles feel happy. Happy knowing he could take them off of the smaller guy. 

“Nervous?” Miles had asked in a husky tone. Waylon’s eyes snapped up from looking at the other man’s flesh and up to his face. He stumbled to find words at first but then spoke. 

“No. Not really.”

“Not really?” Miles inquired, now climbing over Waylon, placing a knee on either side of his thighs. His back flexed with eagerness. Waylon leaned back, nearly laying down, but propping himself up on the bed by his elbows. His mind was still trying to rap around Miles’ voice. It was so low in pitch. He could feel his voice in his chest. The sound was so thick he felt as though he could touch it. Miles once again touched Waylon’s face, this time gripping his chin. Waylon's eyes looked away bashfully. Miles clicked his tongue before continuing. “Why ‘not really’?”

“You know…” Waylon paused. “I’ve never been with a man before, but I’m not… nervous per-say.”

“Are you sure you want to continue?”

Waylon thought for a moment. He looked back to Miles, the strong man he is. His sharp jawline, crooked nose which has been busted a few too many times, wide shoulders, tantalizing abs, well fitting boxers and strong legs. Waylon’s timidness wanted to back down a little. Mostly because Miles was so handsome and Waylon was not. He’s just scrawny, awkward and spineless. Something his former boss never failed to remind him about. However, the desire in him, the want he felt for Miles overpowered this insecurity. If Miles found Waylon unattractive, he wouldn’t be on top of him right now. He would never kiss him or try to snake his hands up Waylons shirt like he so often does. Miles wanted Waylon, just like how Waylon feels about him, perhaps more so with the Walrider inside him. There was no denying it, they wanted each other. Waylon practically crumbles under Miles’ hands. 

“Yes. I'm sure.”

This made Miles smile, not a snarky smile but an actual sincere smile, something that is a rare thing to behold. Waylon figured that he must’ve assumed Waylon would try to back out, and was surprised when he hadn't. Miles bent down, resting his hands by Waylon’s elbows and kissed him again. The kiss was soft and sweet, but not the burning hot kiss they both yearn for. Waylon pushed into the kiss, as did Miles. Miles could feel the other man's long eyelashes tickle his cheeks. Waylon was already breathing heavily, eyebrows already furrowed together with want, body rolling up into Miles. That struck Miles with a question. When was the last time Waylon had sex? He hasn’t flirted with anyone but Miles since they’ve met, and Miles couldn’t imagine Waylon having a one night stand like how he himself so often does. Breaking off the kiss, he decided to ask. 

“Way?”

“Yeah?” Waylon breathed. He tried not to sound needy and pathetic. 

“When was the last time you had sex?”

Waylon was shocked by the question and suddenly felt rather embarrassed. Had he been acting like some horny teenager? Although, he felt the question was reasonable enough. 

“I don’t know… maybe one… two years?”

Miles wasn’t too surprised by his answer, but he was dumbfounded how a man could go that long without sex. Before the Walrider possessed him, Miles required sex at least monthly. If sex wasn’t accessible, jerking off was the next best thing, which he did nearly daily. An orgasm a day keeps the doctor away, as Miles often said to himself. Now that the Walrider has increased his hormones, if he’s not happy or neutral in emotion, he’s angry or horribly horny. The idea of not having sex for a year or fucking two, Miles couldn’t imagine the case of blue balls he’d get. Now he felt like pitying Waylon but also congratulating him for not losing his mind. He figured Waylon must whack off a lot, but the question is when? Usually they’re traveling so he can't then, or he’s working, cooking or cleaning. If not that he takes a five minute shower, use the bathroom or he’s sleeping. Miles’ doubted Waylon gets it up, masturbates and ejaculates within five minutes, but maybe he does. Its not impossible, just bizarre in Miles’ sex-craved mind. Or maybe he really doesn’t touch himself at all? Who knows. 

“How come?” Waylon peeped out. Miles came out from his thoughts and examined the other man’s expression. Waylon seemed a little concerned, as if he thought he turned Miles off. Miles looked down Waylon, looking at the zipper of his hoodie, down to his pants then back up and smiled. 

“Oh, I was just curious.”

“Why?” Waylon persisted. Miles snorted and gave him a quick peck on the lips before speaking. 

“Because now I know what I want to do with you.”

At those very words Waylon could feel a thin string of pleasure shoot through him, starting with his groin, all the way to his head. Miles used a hand to push Waylon to a lying position. Waylon didn’t fight, in fact, he liked the way Miles took control. Lisa often took control of their sex life. Hell, sometimes she’d pounce on the man, rip his shirt off and grind on him till he forgot everything but her hips on his. Waylon didn’t like pain, but he liked domination. He was submissive by nature. The security of a more assertive partner made him both feel safe but also excited. As he laid down on the bed, he brought his arms up over his head in a relaxed position. His hands near his face as he watched up to the broad shouldered man. Miles leaned down and pushed his face into the crook of Waylon’s neck. He breathed him in. The scent of cheap motel soap and shampoo was prominent, but underneath that Miles could smell the natural scent of him. Waylon’s eyes shut as he lightly tipped his head back, letting Miles do as he pleases. He took a few inhales of him before planting a kiss on his throat. Waylon gasped quietly, his toes already began to tingle along with his ankles. 

Miles wanted to kiss down on Waylon hard, to suck on his neck and give him hickeys like a reckless teenager, but he contained himself. Even the Walrider retorted against his restraint. Though he wanted to pound into Waylon till the sun comes up, he wanted to be patient. It was for many reasons, but a few were simple. Waylon has never had sex with a man, the closest he’s gotten was when Eddie Gluskin tried to rape him back in the asylum. Thankfully Waylon managed to escape before his anal virginity was stolen from him, but it scared him none the less. Sometimes seeing Miles made Waylon shriek in terror. From what Waylon had told him, Miles’ physique was similar to Eddies, mostly his shoulders. It was a tough thing for Waylon to get over. There would be times when the two would be making out, Miles groping Waylon's rear as Way ran his hands up his arms, but his shoulders would make him jump back and nearly run away. Miles would have to sit him down and convince him that Eddie did indeed die, and he wasn’t coming back. Even if he didn’t have that trauma, he still would like to go easy on Waylon, simply because of his lack of experience.

The next reason was simple, he wanted to have Waylon basking in all the sensations Miles can give him. He wants him to grow needy and desperate, practically sobbing for Miles to take him. Miles is a man with little patience, but when it comes to sex he loves to tease, to get people craving his skin and more. Since Waylon is already so sex deprived, teasing will be amazing to Miles’ ego. He’d love to hear Waylon gasp, moan and beg for him. Pleading for him to just make him cum, to make him his. God, Miles is gonna lose his mind before he even begins. Best of all, Miles knows for a fact that Waylon gets turned on by neck kisses. He had figured that out one day. Waylon was in the bathroom washing his hands and Miles had come up from behind him. He gripped his arms and planted a firm kiss onto his neck, which Waylon had to steady himself on the bathroom counter to keep him from falling. 

For now, Miles will keep it gentle, no matter how much he wants to be rough. He didn’t take his lips off Waylon, but did push into another kiss. Then another and soon he opened his mouth on the hot neck and rolled his hot, wet tongue against Waylon’s skin. Waylon choked down a moan that threatened to leave his mouth. His knees were already tingling, legs already opening wider, hoping Miles will get closer. His toes curled in his shoes. Waylon tipped his head back into the mattress more, silently begging for more of Miles’ addictive kisses and that arousing tongue. Miles took that hint and suckled on his throat. He smothered Waylon with kisses and occasional little love bites. Then he began licking his neck, claiming it as his own. Waylon was panting by the time Miles latched down on his Adams apple and started sucking. His Adams apple bobbed in his mouth, making Miles nearly grin. He let go of the little apple and got down to the junction of Waylon’s neck and shoulder. He gave it a slightly painful bite, then gave it a passionate kiss. 

“Miles please,” Waylon whined. Miles felt his groin jump with enthusiasm. He continued down to the collar of Waylon’s hoodie. He brought a hand up and pinched the zipper between his thumb and middle finger. He hated his hands since the asylum. He can still clearly remember Richard Trager, that fucked up maniac, naked except for an apron with Miles strapped to that cursed wheelchair. He could remember the agony shoot through him as Trager cut his pointer finger off from his right hand. He could remember the blood gushing out from the newly sliced nub, then feeling the same thing happen to his ring finger on his left hand. He could remember the throbbing pain, so much so that just looking at his now healed nubs, a part of him burns with hatred. It angers him that Trager died by getting squashed in that elevator. It pisses him off because he couldn’t do it himself. He gripped the zipper and began to pull it down, hearing that beautiful ‘zzzzzmmm’ sound as it went down. 

Waylon’s chest went up and down in anticipation. His wrists turned around to grip the sheets below him. Miles fully opened up the hoodie and parted it open before kissing his way up to Waylon’s lips. The other man kissed him back desperately. He was so ready for Miles to attack him the way he normally does. He was ready for the crazy sex monster inside of Miles, but it won’t come out. He wanted Miles. He wanted him so bad, it hurt. Their lips pressed against each other, let the slippery, red organs snake their way out of their homes and fight for dominance, teeth occasionally brushing together. Miles started to suck on Waylon’s tongue, and Waylon grabbed Miles’ neck and hair to get him closer. The hand on his hair traveled down to Miles’ back intending to grab fabric, but instead lightly clawed at his bare skin. Miles enjoyed the feeling of Waylon’s fingernails in his back. The Walrider shivered inside him, causing a wave of euphoria to wash over him. Miles abruptly pulled back from Waylon, leaving him with his mouth still open and eyes fluttering. 

“What?” Waylon asked, trying to lean up and kiss Miles, but Miles had turned his face away. 

“Be patient,” Miles whispered, pinning Waylon's wrists to the bed. “I haven’t even started with you Way.”

“Miles… Please.”

Miles ignored Waylon’s plead, and instead went back down to his neck. He popped the first button open at the collar and gave his soft flesh a peck. He opened the next button and did the same. Waylon gripped the larger man’s hair softly, but had his arm pushed away by Miles. 

“Keep your hands up there,” Miles told him. “Let me touch you.”

Waylon nodded and gripped the sheets once more. Miles opened the next button, kissed his skin, then repeated the process down. He heard Waylon whisper “Oh God” under his breath, and it took every fiber of his being to keep himself contained. He wanted to fuck Waylon so bad, right now, but after tonight he’ll be able to do that whenever he wants, but for now, he’s got to keep himself under control. Once Miles exposed Waylon’s belly button, he kissed it, then pushed his tongue inside the little hole. He did it mostly as a joke, but you never know what somebody will be into. Waylon had gasped, but then giggled at the sensation. Miles continued licking his way down to the last two buttons, undoing them in the same fashion, then kissing the edge of Waylon's pants. 

“Ah,” Waylon moaned, arching his back. Miles found that to be so damn sexy. He kissed his pant-line again, and this time noticed the feeling of Waylon’s erection by his chin. He looked up to see Waylon's fully exposed chest, thin, pale and mostly hairless. He looked back down to Waylon’s erection before meeting up with it and giving him a kiss through his tan slacks. Waylon’s hands clenched into the sheets as he gasped and looked down to Miles. Just from the smell, Miles could tell that Waylon had been leaking precum. He opened his mouth and felt around, until he could distinctly feel the shape of Waylon’s cock through his pants. He sucked on it through the slacks, causing Waylon's chest to rise and fall quickly has he began to pant. He put a hand over his face, trying to save himself from the embarrassment, but also because he needed to hold onto himself. He felt Miles spin his tongue around his penis which forced an elongated moan from Waylon's throat. Miles continued to lick and suck through the pants as Waylon’s body twitched under pleasure. His thighs were opened wide, his hand rubbed his face trying to ease the moans now helplessly flowing out of him. His other hand was gripping the sheets so tightly his knuckles turned white. 

“Oh fuck. Miles!”

Miles’ own cock bounced at that. The whine that came out of Waylon as he moaned his name, God fucking damn. It sounded like Heaven. He looked up to Waylon, watching his Adams apple bob up and down. His mouth was still at work, but he couldn’t help but stare. Waylon’s eyebrows were knotted together in pleasure. His head bonelessly rolled down to look at Miles and his face flushed a deep red when he saw Miles’ eyes meet with his own. Miles opened his mouth and his tongue licked around the frame of Waylon’s dick through his pants, letting Waylon have a clear view of it all. Waylon’s mouth fell open with helpless indulgence. Miles popped off of Waylon and bounded up to him so he can capture Waylon’s lips. Waylon wrapped his arms around Miles’ neck as they kissed each other hard. Waylon bit at Miles’ lower lip, traced his teeth with his tongue and attempted to grind up into Miles, but he was a little to far away. Their kiss was deep, then Miles pulled away, giving Waylon a kiss on the cheek, then gripped his hoodie and shirt. 

He pulled the fabric apart, exposing more of Waylon’s pale skin. Way sat up and kissed Miles’ neck. The stronger man pulled the fabric off Waylon, then tossed the clothes aside, somewhere on the floor by his own clothes. He pushed Waylon back down onto the bed, and eyed his body. Waylon was thin, not scrawny like he would say, just thin. His skin was pale, being untouched by the sun. His nipples were small and pink. Even though Waylon was a brunette, there were light blonde hairs down his chest. They were hard to notice, but they were there. Miles leaned down to Waylon’s right nipple, smiling at the cute pink circle, then kissed it. He wiggled his tongue around it, before clamping down on it, gaining a mewl from Waylon. Way brought his knuckles up to his mouth to cover it. The feeling of Miles rolling his tongue around his areola, gently nibbling and sucking, felt better than expected. Waylon’s mouth opened, but there was no sound that came out. Instead, he let his head fall back and just closed his eyes. He wanted to enjoy this feeling. 

Soon Miles brought his hand up to Waylon’s left nipple and rolled it between thumb and pointer finger. He massaged it, pulled and tugged it gently, causing it to get hard. As he played with the pink nipple, he felt Waylon’s thin fingers find their way into his hair, holding it. He gently pulled at it, feeling so good about everything at the moment. 

“Oh god Miles please-”

The Walrider protested inside him. The swarm was getting impatient with Miles’ teasing. His hormones felt so thick they’d ooze from his skin. Now was the time. He gave Waylon’s nipple a final kiss before sitting up, still on his knees. Miles unconsciously gripped his own, hard cock through his boxers as he loomed over Waylon. 

“Are you ready?”

Waylon nearly sobbed hearing those words. He was so hard, so desperate for sex, for Miles. He started thinking Miles would just tease him forever. He frantically nodded, ready for whatever Miles was willing to give him. Waylon kicked his shoes off his feet, hearing them fall onto the floor with their own individual thuds, exposing his socks. A smirk found its way to Miles’ lips as he unzipped Waylon’s slacks. Waylon lifted his hips higher so Miles could remove his pants easier. Miles hooked his fingers into the waist of his pants and underwear and tugged them down. Waylon was a little surprised when he felt his underwear come down too and felt the cool air on his penis, but he figured it would have to be exposed eventually. Though it was embarrassing to have his out and Miles’ still hidden behind his boxers. He rested his hips down and lifted his legs so Miles could finish taking them off. Once off, he tossed them away like all the clothes before. Miles smiled down at Waylon’s erection, which caused him to nearly cover it with his hands, but then Miles spoke up. 

“I’m so glad you’re happy to see me Way,” he grinned happily. Waylon crossed his arms and simply said “shut up.”

Waylon was feeling self conscious. He got used to seeing Miles’ half naked body above him, but now seeing his own, fully nude body, aside from his navy blue socks, he felt ashamed. When he was Lisa, he didn’t compare, her being a woman and he being a man. He didn’t feel effeminate or less masculine, because compared to her he felt manly. However, with Miles, they both are men, which leaves Waylon able to compare their bodies. Waylon was probably half the size of Miles. His thin arms, torso and legs looked like noodles compared to the godlike body before him. Miles thought Waylon's body was sexy, but Waylon may or may not believe him. Body insecurity is one hell of a thing. Miles stood up and off the bed. He watched as Waylon stared at him, then noticed Miles remove his underwear. The red fabric rolled down his legs, letting his cock bounce up happily. Where his underwear had been was lighter in skin tone than the rest of him, due to his tan-lines. 

“I’m excited to see you too.” 

That comment did make Waylon feel a little better, which made him smile. If someone has handsome as Miles had a hard on for Waylon, maybe he didn’t look to bad. Miles gestured to the pillows and Waylon got the picture. He wiggled up to the questionably stained pillows which were destined to be further stained. Miles crawled onto the bed after him and pushed Waylon's legs apart. Waylon opened his arms, expecting Miles to plop down onto his chest and ravish his mouth with kisses, but instead Miles gripped the underside of his knees. 

“What are you doing?”

“I want to show you something.”

Miles schooched up closer to Waylon as he lifted his legs up in the air. Miles’ knees were tucked between the bed and Waylon’s back, near his ribs. His lower body was resting on Miles’ legs and stomach and Waylon could feel the erection digging into his spine. His hips were up high, nearly up by Miles’ shoulders. Waylon somewhat closed his legs, feeling shy once again. What did Miles have planned? Miles rubbed up and down Waylon’s thighs, then down his hips and sides. He had a smile, a sort of grin that showed he was up to no good. He patted Waylon’s rear. 

“You cleaned up back here right?”

“Yes… Earlier. Why?”

“Have you gone to the bathroom since?”

“No?”

“Good,” Miles laughed. “If you fart I’m gonna make you pay.”

With that Miles used his thumbs to open Waylon’s butt cheeks. Waylon’s cute asshole was now exposed, and Miles knew exactly what he wanted to do. He opened Waylon up a little more, glanced to Waylon’s perplexed expression and dipped down. Waylon couldn’t control the gasp that came from his mouth when he felt Miles lick his ass. Miles rested his legs on his haunches as his tongue explored the uncharted lands of Waylon’s lower half. His tongue slithered around, dipped and dived, and swirled all around him. Waylon covered his hot face with his arms. It felt so good but he felt mortified. Nobody has ever touched back there, not even Lisa, nor has he even imagined someone playing with him back there. Waylon hasn’t even touched there, unless he was cleaning himself up after using the toilet. He hasn’t felt so much like a virgin since he actually lost his virginity with Lisa. Even though he was unfamiliar with anything like this, he unconsciously parted his legs, silently demanding more. 

“Oh god,” he whispered through his arms. Miles pulled Waylon’s legs up and over his shoulders as he gripped his hips. His face was buried between those small but plump cheeks. His tongue rolled along, practically strolled on by. Miles was familiar with eating people out, men and women alike. Some people found it disgusting, but he found it both fun but also sexy as hell. He loved hearing his partner moan, the way their body throbs against his tongue. He personally found it enjoyable. He pushed his tongue inside Waylon, who ended up making a hiccup sounding moan. He must’ve moaned and inhaled at the same time, which was pretty cute to Miles. Waylon was still covering his face, but Miles could hear a quiet murmur of “Oh Gods” leaving his small, twitchy lovers lips. No, not lover. That would imply that they were dating, which they are not. Miles doesn’t date, he doesn’t commit, but Waylon is the closest thing he’s had to dating for several years now. 

“Oh god!” Waylon squeaked. His arms parted and he now squeezed the pillows under him. Waylon couldn’t believe himself. He couldn’t fathom that his as was in the air, getting eaten out by another man, and him to be feeling this fucking amazing by it. He could feel Miles’ head between the fat of his thighs, tongue wiggling inside him and his cock throbbing with excitement. He looked at his hips, staring at Miles. His eyes were closed in concentration. Waylon had hardly noticed that Miles’ fingernails were lightly digging into his hip bones until he actually looked down. He watched, trying to contain his voice. It had just occurred to him that they did have “neighbors”. There were people in each room on either side of theirs. Waylon prayed he wasn’t being loud before. 

Miles pulled away and petted Waylon’s ass and thighs, which were now left twitching. Waylon covered his face again, but peeked through his fingers. Miles licked his lips and let him go, letting Waylon’s body rest on Miles. The larger man leaned forward, effectively folding Waylon a little, over to the bedside nightstand and grabbed some items within. Once in hand, he scooched back, letting Waylon's body gently plop down onto the mattress with a creek. Waylon propped himself up on his elbows and looked into Miles’ hands. In one was a small plastic bottle, the other a condom. He cocked his head to the side and asked, “What’s the bottle?”

Miles nearly laughed out loud, but didn’t want to embarrass Waylon anymore than he already clearly was. 

“What? You’ve never seen lube before?” He answered sarcastically. 

“Oh,” Waylon breathed. “They just have that?”

“Way, people come to motels mostly to fuck. Now most motels have the common courtesy to supply lube and condoms, that way people make less of a mess.”

Waylon didn’t need to ask how Miles knew this. Miles was a horn dog and the Walrider makes it worse. Miles could probably have more sex in a day than Waylon could in a whole month. Although Miles would probably take that as a complement. He watched Miles squirt some lube onto his right middle and ring finger. He could see the moment of anger he always had when he looked at his fingers. Trager still pisses him off, even after so long. He can’t blame him though. Miles closed the cap and put the bottle and condom on the bed. He parted Waylon’s legs and brought his hand between them. 

“It might hurt at first, but I’ll try to make it feel good.”

Waylon nodded, appreciating the warning. He felt one of Miles’ fingers prod against his entrance, and Waylon braced himself for the pain. He didn’t know how much to prepare for, so he got ready for a burn of pain that could make him hiss. He hadn’t pictured Miles fingering him. For some reason it hadn't really crossed his mind. Though it does make sense. Between the two, Miles has far more experience and much more assertiveness. Waylon had fingered Lisa many times, but the idea of fingering a man or getting fingered by one wasn’t something that ever crossed his mind, until now. The finger slowly started to push in. Waylon was surprised by the complete and utter lack of pain. Maybe it was the lube or the fact that Miles only moments ago had his tongue rolling inside him, but the entry was painless. Sure, it felt weird and made him feel really full inside, but it didn’t hurt. It was more uncomfortable. 

Miles thrust his finger inside Waylon, trying to be easy on him. He was used to finger-fucking experienced people, people who could take in two fingers from the start, but Waylon’s ass was a virgin, which he had to remind himself of. The finger slid in and out easy enough, though Waylon’s insides gripped him tightly. Miles’ cock throbbed with the idea of pushing into his tight ass. He wondered how hard it would grip him, how good it would feel, but he was getting ahead of himself. 'Be patient' he kept telling himself. Be patient. Waylon was biting back sounds. He couldn’t place if they were pleasure or pain noises. If he was honest, he felt neither of the two. He felt more confused than anything. Perhaps that was normal, but he didn’t know. All he knew was that Miles’ finger felt thick inside him, and the feeling of it sliding in and out of him was something so unreal, he couldn’t describe it if you paid him. 

Miles slid his finger out, let his ring finger join the middle, then started to slide them back in. Waylon made a partial gasp, partial moan sound. He could feel the fingers stretch him open. He felt so full, so wide. Waylon grasped at the pillows as he was fingered. The feeling really didn’t feel as he imagined. He thought it would be painful, maybe pleasurable, but instead it just felt weird and big. Miles’ fingers curled every so often with each thrust. It was as if Mile’s was trying to find something inside Waylon, or maybe he was just trying to stretch him out? Suddenly Miles’ fingers opened like scissors, and made back and forth motions, like when you pretend your fingers are a little person running around. Waylon began panting again, now he could feel that familiar warmth in his pelvis again. Pleasure. Miles’ fingers closed together again, thrust some more, then were pulled out. Waylon gave a disappointed moan. 

Miles grabbed the bottle of lube again, put some on his pinky, then tossed it aside again. He swiftly brought his hand back to the now empty Waylon, then pressed the three fingers inside him. Waylon gasped and clenched his legs. Three fingers was a lot. Now it burned, not too bad, but enough that he wanted the fingers out. They wiggled inside Waylon, still searching, trying to carve him out like a jack o 'lantern. The fingers parted from each other, stretching him out more and more. Now Waylon’s breathing was growing heavy. He’s eyes flicked up to Miles’, which were immensely focused and seducing. He was biting his lip, making it turn white. Miles was so in tune with his job he didn’t even notice Waylon watching. Watching Miles somehow made the pain go away, for the most part anyways. Miles was getting impatient. His cock was starting to hurt. He needed to get inside Waylon, now. Waylon too was growing impatient. 

"Fuck Waylon.” Miles panted. “You turn me on." 

"Do it," Waylon whined.

"Do what?"

"Me." 

That was the only invitation Miles needed. He pulled his fingers free from Waylon and smiled down at him. He wiped the lube off his fingers and onto the mattress. He grabbed the condom and raised it up in the air, towards the light. He stared at it for a few seconds and tore the wrapper open. 

“What was that?”

“Sometimes people poke holes in condoms, I was checking for any. There's not.”

Waylon nodded and watched Miles put the condom on the head of his penis, then roll it all the way down to the base of his cock. He grabbed the lube bottle and squirted the rest of it into his palm. Waylon bit his lip as he watched Miles wrap his hand around his own cock and begin to pump it back and forth, getting the condom extra wet. Miles stroked himself rather fast, making slippery slap noises come from his hand. It made Waylon blush a little, but not as bad as other times. Once Miles felt he was both hard and wet enough, he rested his hips against Waylon's, and gave him a kiss. 

“Comfortable?”

“Uh huh.”

“You sure you want to?”

“Yes,” Waylon confirmed as he wrapped his arms around Miles’ neck and kissed him deeply. Miles grinded against Waylon, sliding his cock between is buttocks, letting Waylon’s ass open a little due to the wetness and the teasing. Up and down. Waylon’s hips raised a little, silently begging for Miles to stop teasing already. Miles rested his chest onto Waylon and wrapped one arm around his neck, cradling him. The other hand gripped his own cock and aimed it straight. He prodded it around, trying to find Waylon’s entrance, then felt the head of his dick dip into a part of the smaller man. He gave Waylon a hard kiss to the neck before sliding inside him. Pain shot through Waylon abruptly. Before it felt so nice, but now it stung like a bitch. It felt like fire inside him, burning him within, spreading him in half. He whimpered in pain as Miles slowly slid inside. Waylon gripped Miles’ shoulders tightly. It was then a sudden spark of anxiety through him. Pain, those shoulders… Eddie. His heart slammed against his rib cage, nearly getting caught in Waylon’s throat. His legs wiggled around trying to gain some distance between he and Eddie. What came next was shocking for the both of them. 

“I’m sorry,” Miles’ voice rang out. It sounded like a comforting melody. Waylon’s breathing had eased when he heard that deep voice, so thick it vibrated inside his own chest. “I know it hurts, but it’ll feel better soon.”

Two things calmed Waylon. The first being that it was Miles who was making his way inside him, not delusional, psychopathic Eddie. Waylon was disappointed in himself for thinking Miles was Eddie again. The two don’t even look alike, but it's those shoulders. Their broadness, like a brick wall, except their only difference was that one was a protective wall, keeping Waylon safe from harm, the other was a cage, keeping Waylon away from freedom and caught like a mouse. The next thing that calmed him was the fact that Miles apologized. Miles rarely ever says he’s sorry, even when he should. Waylon kissed his neck in return, feeling more at ease. His backside still hurt, and his heart still ached with anxiety, but something about Miles’ apology made him feel better, if not more loved. God, it’s been so long since he’s felt loved, since he’s felt needed. He missed making love to Lisa, not just sex, but love. He missed the feeling of her breasts against his chest as he kissed her, her hands around his neck, her legs wrapped around his hips as he rolled his hips into her. He missed the cuddles they had after. The way they’d hold hands and fall asleep in each others arms. He missed the love, not the sex, the love. Even though Miles is pushing inside of him, it’s not love making, it’s just sex. 

Waylon could feel each inch as Miles pushed in deeper. He felt so stuffed full, like a Thanksgiving turkey. He thought fingers were difficult enough before, but now he felt like they were easy mode. Miles’ mouth opened in pure bliss. His body was wracked with pleasure, starting with his groin, pulsating into his stomach and chest and licking its way up into his head. Waylon felt so much better than he expected. He was so tight. He squeezed Miles’ cock hard, making sure every bit of him was rubbed and the beautiful pleasure came from every direction. It took so much effort to not just start slamming in and out of him. Though Miles knew Waylon was in pain, and a part of him subconsciously knew that he had a miniature panic attack a second ago. To just start fucking him senseless would be a quick way to get kicked out of him then left to deal with his erection alone. He swallowed his urge down and cupped Waylon’s face. He kissed him over and over, and Waylon returned each one. Funny, Miles was being far more considerate and gentle than either of them expected. Perhaps he wasn’t has much of a sex demon as even he thought, or perhaps there was something about Waylon that made him actually respect him. 

Miles pulled out about halfway, trying to keep it slow, then eased back in. Waylon groaned at the penetration. It was like getting stabbed by a hot, thick, dull knife. At least the pain slightly faded away, it still hurt like hell, but slightly less than before. He thanked Miles internally for being both experienced and also preparing both of them, because Miles slid into him easily do to the preparation and lube. Miles groaned out, it was a low, animal like noise. He felt so good. It’s been a while since he fucked a virgin, or at least a half virgin. He forgot how tight things felt when it was with someone inexperienced. It felt wonderful. Their chest rubbed against each other softly, the bed squeaked in protest. He leaned down and kissed Waylon several times before pulling away just enough that their lips barely grazed. The two of them had actually moaned at the same time, making their lips slightly vibrate. ‘God, that was hot’, Miles thought. He’d never moaned so insync with someone before, not like that anyways. He kissed down on Waylon, harder, and their tongues came out again, playing and fighting with each other. 

He was drowning in pleasure, and if he couldn’t snap his hips back and forth, the next best thing was to fuck Waylon’s mouth with his tongue, to which he did. He rolled it inside, feeling up and around Waylon’s wet mouth. Their tongues battled for a bit, before Miles decided to suck on Waylon’s tongue again. Waylon moaned into that, and Miles could feel his ass loosen slightly. The pain was starting to subside, he knew it. He gripped the sides of his face and kissed him over and over, all the while slowly, yet surely gaining speed. His cock was starting to slide in and out easily, with less and less resistance each time. Waylon began to pant with some moans slipping out again. Their kisses began to get more aggressive, and the bed beneath them hissed from their movements. Waylon was about to speak, probably something about how they should be quiet, but Miles kissed him instead. He took a fist full of Waylon's hair as he started thrusting harder, hips snapping into Waylon's, making the slapping sounds grow louder. 

“Oh god Miles,” Waylon whined out between the smooches. His voice got high with pleasure. Now there was hardly any pain, just pleasure and the feeling of being stretched open. His penis kept patting his stomach, still alive and ready for the world. He could even feel Miles’ lower abdomen rubbing against it with each thrust. Each lude creak of the bed made him feel more embarrassed but also more horny. He felt so dirty, yet so delightfully naughty for doing something like this. Waylon. Twitchy, shy, Waylon, getting fucked in the ass in a motel bed, bed creaking and starting to make quiet bangs into the wall. Surly the people in the next room over could hear the two of them having sex. A part of him cared, a part of him couldn’t care less. He’d never done anything like this before. After all, he’d only ever been with one person, so doing something like this felt so wrong and yet so right, especially with Miles. His ass was accustomed to Miles’ size and now with each thrust came a wave of pleasure that shocked his insides like electricity. Each time he pushed in his body quivered in pleasure, and each time he pulled nearly out his body ached for him to come back. Miles could feel the Walrider trying to come up, to come out. The Walrider likes to experience things. Since it’s still a young entity it has a lot to see and learn. 

Because Miles has sex so often, the Walrider will try to take him over to see what it feels like, to understand why Miles was so addicted to it. It was aware it felt good, but the amount of pleasure it gives him was unknown to the Swarm. Miles nearly let the Walrider slip out from him, so he had to choke to keep it back. Normally it wouldn’t be so difficult, but Miles felt good, real good this time, like borderline ecstasy. His cock being buried into an adorable guy’s tight asshole while he’s moaning under Miles, isn’t making it any easier. Trying to keep it contained, Miles thrust harder, trying to get more control over his own body. Waylon cried out, feeling a sudden blast of pleasure shoot through him. It almost felt like a premature orgasm. His body felt so alive. Miles continued slamming into him, earning more pleasured screams from the curly haired male. At first when Waylon shrieked out, he thought he had hurt him, but then he heard the euphoria in his voice. His body opened up for Miles, trying to take him in further. Miles looked to Waylon’s face. His eyes were clamped shut, brows furrowed in pleasure and mouth hanging open, freely letting his voice be heard. 

“Fuck,” Miles gasped. “Fuck Waylon. When did you get so fucking hot?” The question was rhetorical but he was genuinely curious too. When they first met he couldn’t stand the guy, but here he is fucking him senseless and enjoying every second of it. Waylon's hands ran up and down Miles’ body. He clawed at his back, feeling each muscle roll under his hands. He let one trail down to Miles’ rear and gave it a squeeze. Miles smiled and licked Waylon's neck. Waylon gripped Miles’ ass with both hands now and yanked him closer. A sharp blast of pleasure shot through him and he nearly screamed. His face was so red, he had to take one hand away and cover his face with embarrassment. Miles suddenly realized what he was doing. He found what he was looking for. When he had been fingering Waylon earlier, he had been searching for his prostate. A man’s prostate is sensitive, and if treated right, it can feel amazing. Unfortunately women don’t have prostates, which would've made his old threesomes even more crazy. Miles snapped his hips again, testing to see if he was correct, and when Waylon moaned into his hand, Miles felt a surge of confidence bubble inside him. 

“Fuck Miles!”

God even Waylon’s voice was like liquid pleasure to Miles. He could feel faint buildup collecting into his stomach. He knew what it was. The creative side of Miles decided to get a little more crazy. He wrapped his arms around the smaller man, planting a kiss on his freckled shoulder and lifted him up. Waylon wrapped his arms and legs tightly around Miles in shock. He wasn’t expecting to be lifted. Miles continued thrusting inside him, lightly bobbing Waylon up and down onto his cock. Waylon’s back arched into Miles, feeling his abs against his stomach. The position change was completely sudden and unpredicted, but it was surprisingly wonderful. Little did Waylon know that Miles had other plans, though he did like seeing Waylon up in the air getting fucked by him. 

“You like that?” Miles groaned. 

“Yes! Oh fuck yes!”

Miles felt his legs turn to jelly. At this rate he may not last as long as he planned. He hadn't counted on Waylon enjoying his cock this much, but it actually made Miles not only feel extremely horny, but also honored, as corny as that sounds. He was able to make a goodie-goodie like Waylon, hot and begging for more. Miles whipped around, Waylon still in his arms, then grazed his legs with his hands. He sat down on the bed as he found Waylon's knees. He spread them open, undoing the legs that were wrapped around him. Waylon rested his hands on Miles’ collar bones and watched him, trying to figure out what he was doing. The stronger man laid back onto the pillows in a relaxed position, with Waylon still on top of him. At this point, Waylon would be riding on top of Miles, and Miles could get a full view of Waylon and all his glory. Miles gripped Waylon’s hips, pet him for a moment before pushing them down on top of him. Waylon’s eyes rolled back for a moment along with his head. 

“Yeah,” Miles breathed as he rolled his hips into Waylon. The smaller man pawed at Miles’ stomach, lightly scratching it in pleasure. The bed creaked under them and Waylon swore he heard a thud from the next room, perhaps from a neighbor growing annoyed with them, but neither man cared. All they cared about was the feeling of pleasure washing over them. It was practically drowning them in inescapable waves of ecstasy. Miles lifted Waylon up and guided him back down. Even though it was Waylon pinning Miles down, the larger man was in control. Waylon liked it that way. He lifted Waylon back up and the smaller man caught the pattern and lowered himself on Miles’ cock. Miles groaned, feeling himself slide into him effortlessly. He dug his nails into Waylon’s hips as he groaned out, “Just like that.”

“Fuck~” Waylon gasped. Miles’ dick pressed up against that spot inside him again. His insides gave a rabid three throbs before Miles gripped his hips harder as he bucked up inside him. He watched in pure bliss as Waylon’s thin frame bobbed up and down onto him. His cock bounced with each thrust, knees resting on either side of Miles, back arched showing off his lower ribs, chest pink with lust and head dipped back and red. When the actual fuck did Waylon get so damn sexy? Miles’ snapped his hips up and down, feeling the pressure inside him build. He was gonna come soon, he just knew it. It didn’t help that he could feel the Walrider flowing inside him, pushing on his insides, trying to escape. The movement only made the pressure inside his stomach feel thicker. He bit his lip hard, leaving indentations. He didn’t want this feeling to end. God, orgasming was probably the best damn feeling in the world, but sometimes it fucking sucks, because that means its the end of the ride, quite literally in this sense. 

Waylon caught that lip bite with his eyes. The way Miles’ head dipped back slightly in the pillows as his lip turned pale from his teeth. He seemed to be losing his cool. Waylon felt flutters inside his stomach and assumed it to be due to the member throbbing inside him. Waylon trailed his hands up and down Miles’ chest, occasionally groping his pecs before going back down. He synced his hips with his hands as they explored Miles. His brown curls tickled his cheeks as he moved. Each muscle bumped up like a little mound of desire. Waylon trailed his hands up to Miles neck and he leaned down and gave him a kiss. Miles tore his hands from Waylon’s hips and gripped his hair and side. He kissed him desperately now. Miles began slamming his hips up, gaining more cries from Waylon. There was no doubting it now. Miles is gonna cum and soon. Waylon’s hands found their way up the other man’s arms and gripped his wrists. He pinned them above Miles’ head, now taking his own charge. 

“Ah shit,” Miles panted. “Fuck. Fuck. God.”

Waylon kissed him again and again. Miles was moving his hips frantically now, and if Waylon didn’t weigh as much as he did, he may get bucked off the bed from how hard Miles was going. Thankfully it didn’t hurt though. In fact, it felt fucking amazing. The pleasure was bolting through the both of them, crashing into them, hitting them like a bus. They were a train wreck, tangled and hot, messy and flat out crazy. Crazier than any of the patients in that asylum, crazier than anyone. 

“Waylon I’m gonna-” Miles started, but had trouble finding the words. His brain was clouded with euphoria. His eyebrows tied together now, eyes shut tightly. He felt like his dick was gonna explode. He felt the pressure inside him practically boiling. He moaned through his lips, almost like a whimper. He pulled his right arm free from Waylon, who easily let him go. He spit into his hand, found Waylon’s dick and began pumping it fast. Waylon’s hips spasmed and involuntary stopped moving. Miles freed his other hand and grabbed Waylon’s hipbone tightly and began forcing his body up and down rapidly. In and out, he thrust and pumped. Waylon was practically in tears it felt so good. All he could do was hold onto Miles’ shoulders and keep riding. Miles was breathing hard now and let several loud moans out. 

“Fucking Christ,” he panted. He was so close now, a little more. He could feel his sperm about to explode out from him. A few more hard slams into Waylon drove him over the edge. His orgasm washed over him like a tsunami. He felt the condom full up with his cum and he froze, overwhelmed by the best damn climax he’s had in months. Electric waves flowed over him. He just laid there for a moment, letting his body come down from its high. Even his vision was blurry. He hadn’t even noticed his toes were curled until he relaxed them. He slowly opened his eyes and met with Waylon’s. He was flushed red and mesmerized by the sight before him. Miles grinned sheepishly, his whole body felt like jelly. He found that his hand was still wrapped around Waylon’s cock, along with his now limp dick still inside him. He lifted Waylon up, letting himself fall out of him. He gripped his own penis, letting his body be tasered by remaining pleasure and pulled off the thoroughly used condom. He tied it shut and tossed it across the room, landing in a garbage can. Miles grinned at the basket he made and looked back to Waylon. Waylon noticed the shot as well and decided to congratulate him. 

“Good...” Waylon panted. “Good job.”

Smiling, Miles gripped Waylon’s penis and pumped it slowly. Waylon hummed out in pleasure. Miles rubbed his thumb over the slit, collecting more precum and pushed his hand back down. Miles was moving much slower than he was a few minutes ago. His body was now tired and content. Though he wasn’t about to leave Waylon with a hard on. He continued jacking him off at a slow, but not too slow pace before speaking. 

“How’d you like that Way?”

Waylon smiled, a little more confidently than Miles had expected. “It was great.”

“Just great?” 

Miles sat up as best he could. It was a little difficult with a grown man on top of him. He placed a steady hand behind him, grabbed Waylon and swapped their positions again. Waylon made a grunt as his back hit the bed and his head flopped onto the pillows. The bed creaked with further protest, it was damp from their sweat and abused by their pounding. He looked up to Miles who started to smirk like the devil he was. Miles was such a demon. A charming, evil, sadistic demon and Waylon was his prey. They both liked it like that.

“It wasn’t fantastic? Incredible? To die for or phenomenal? Just ‘great’?” 

“Shut up,” Waylon laughed. Miles laughed too. He kissed Waylon’s chest and made his way back down to the curly haired males groin. 

“Good to see you again my friend,” Miles greeted Waylon’s little buddy. Waylon covered his face, though this time it was hard to tell if it was from embarrassment or just simply face-palming at the fact Miles had talked to his penis like a person. Miles grabbed it again, playfully wiggled it side to side, gaining a giggle from the smaller man, before he jerked his hand up and down its length. Waylon’s hips rolled into it, and Miles put his mouth around the head of his cock and began sucking. Waylon gasped and arched his back. He could feel Miles’ tongue wiggle around, caressing his slit. There were no words to describe it, it just felt great, fantastic, incredible, to die for and immensely phenomenal. As Miles sucked on the head, he used his hand to caress Waylon’s length. He did this for a few moments before taking Waylon down his throat, practically swallowing him down. 

Waylon moaned out. He had been feeling the need to cum for a while now, but he was used to Miles doing that cursed teasing, making Waylon feel like he’d never cum. Now however, Miles isn’t teasing him anymore. He’s letting him feel the sensations, and somehow Waylon knew Miles wasn’t gonna tease him anymore, and that he was gonna make him cum hard. As Miles bobbed his head and hand down on him, Waylon just basked in the feelings. His body pulsated when he felt himself nearly cum too soon. He hadn’t really notices how pent up he was when he was riding him, but now that he’s relaxing and taking the feelings in, he just realized how close he was. 

“Mmmiles,” he breathed, trying to keep himself together. He felt like he was coming undone like string. Miles gave his cock a squeeze as he picked up the pace, twirling his tongue around Waylon's head when he made his way up. Waylon made a gasp and cursed out a sharp, “fuck”. His hands met Miles’ hair and hooked into the dark locks. He lightly pushed Miles further down on him, making him take more of Waylon in. Thankfully, Miles had plenty of experience, so his gag reflex wasn’t a problem. If it had been Waylon sucking on Miles dick, that would’ve been another story. Waylon had zero experience with anyone else's penis than his own and even then, he kept things simple. When he’s turned on, find Lisa or handle it himself. If he just got a random hard on, just think of something else till it goes down. That was his basic rules. He heard of some men trying to suck themselves off and it both confused him and terrified him. How could a guy be flexible enough to do that and better question, who was the first one to try that, then tell his buddies, ‘hey man you should try this’? Another question, why suck your own when you could have someone do it for you? Perhaps that was rude, but it’s what he used to think. Miles suddenly picked up speed and twisted his hand making the feeling enhanced. Waylon’s hips rolled into his mouth, and he felt himself losing control. 

“Oh god, oh my god.”

Waylon thrashed his head to the side as Miles started bobbing up faster. He could feel himself getting closer to the edge. Miles was so fucking good at this. Dare he say, maybe even better than Lisa. He couldn’t believe he thought of that, but from his memory Lisa wasn’t as good at blow jobs as Miles. Sure she was fucking incredible, but there was something that Miles had that she didn’t. Perhaps it was because Miles actually has a cock and balls himself. Maybe it was easier playing with someone's matching setup than playing on someone else's game. Waylon’s breathing was labored and he snapped his head up in a small panic. He had the sudden urge to cum. 

“Fuck Miles,” he squieked. “I’ma… I’m gonna… cum!”

Miles didn’t pop off like Waylon expected. He kept going, sucking and licking on Waylon like a Popsicle. Waylon looked to the man. His vision was fogged by lust but he could see Miles chocolate brown eyes staring back at him. Was he gonna let him cum in his mouth? Waylon couldn’t just let that happen, he didn’t want to degrade Miles like that. He tried to hold it in as much as he could, but Miles was pulling out all the tactics. Twisting his hand, rolling his tongue over the slit and head. It felt so damn good. Waylon half assedly tried to pull Miles off, but the effort was minimal. Truth is, he didn’t want Miles to stop, but the idea of him cumming in his mouth was such an offensive idea to him. 

“Mmmiles. I can’t hold it… I’m!” With that, Waylon felt the pressure inside him build up past his breaking point. He climaxed hard, feeling each shock of pleasure as it coursed through his veins. His body twitched and pulsated with life, as his penis felt to be drowning in Miles’ mouth. Miles’ hollowed out his cheeks, feeling Waylon fill up his mouth as he let him come down from his high. When he felt the cock go limp, he slid off, keeping his lips tight. He sat up and swallowed, unknown to Waylon who was having trouble laying still. His whole body was throbbing with life. Nearly two years, he hasn’t had sex, two years. When he was with Lisa, he had sex roughly once a week, or once every two weeks depending if they had the time or not. Then once he started working at Mount Massive, his sex life dropped off abruptly and since then, he hasn’t had sex, until now. 

Waylon looked up to Miles with half lidded eyes. Miles got up from the bed, arched his back in a stretch and let his body crack. He glanced around the room in search for his boxers. He noticed them laying abandoned by the door. Had he really tossed them that far? Waylon watched as Miles approached the undergarments, and couldn’t help but choke down a giggle. Miles was tan everywhere but where his underwear was, leaving his butt a few shades lighter than the rest of his skin. He watched silently as Miles bent down, grabbed the boxers and slipped them on, one leg at a time. He pulled them up to his hips and let them go with a snap to his hip bones. Now his skin seemed to match entirely, hiding the pale skin hiding underneath. He looked back to the curly haired male who was watching him calmly, if not a little confidently. 

“So? How’d you like it?” Miles joked. He didn’t have to ask, hell, they’re probably gonna get a noise complaint from the houses across the street. Waylon more than enjoyed it, Miles didn’t doubt that for a second. Waylon was about to laugh and say that he didn’t just to mess with Miles, but then he noticed. Where did his ejaculate go? He came in Miles’ mouth, but had he spit it? If so, when and where? He glanced down by his thighs, but he didn’t see any white sperm by him at all. He flushed when he realized Miles’ must’ve swallowed his ejaculate down. Miles’ noticed the sudden meekness of him. He turned to face him and placed a hand on his hip. He raised a thick brow and spoke. 

“What’s the matter? Speechless?”

Waylon shook his head and forced a smile out, but his face burned hot, giving away how shy he suddenly felt. “Did… did you swallow my… it?”

“Did I swallow your cum?” 

If Waylon would’ve been drinking the fluid would’ve squirted from his nose. All he could do is simply nod, acknowledging the question. Miles laughed. Sometimes Waylon got so damn coy, he couldn’t take it. Damn this guy was cute. 

“Yeah,” he laughed some more. “I’m a cum guzzler.”

Waylon covered his face, both trying to hide it, but also trying to muffle his laugh. He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. With a swing of his body he left the bed and grabbed his own boxers, which had been tossed just as every other article of clothing Miles had taken off the both of them. He wiggled into the fabric and found his backpack. He knelt down and unzipped it. He already had his favorite grey hoodie at the top of the bag. It was warm and soft, incredible to sleep in. He pulled it out and found his way inside the fabric. He heard the squeak of the bed, then the ruffle of the blankets. Waylon pulled the hood off his head and looked to the bed. Miles was laying on it, trying to pull the blankets over him. Waylon zipped the backpack up and stood up. He finger brushed some hair out of his face as he walked over to the bed. Miles smiled up to him and grabbed a fistful of the blanket. He lifted it up and gave him a flirty, inviting look, as if to say ‘mmm yes Waylon, come into my lair’. 

Waylon climbed into the bed with Miles. The bed was certainly small, so small their bodies were forced to touch, but not like either of them cared. Waylon rested his head on the pillows and pulled the blankets from Miles to let them down. He faced Miles’ broad chest and smiled up to him. Miles leaned down and kissed the top of Waylon's hair, now smelling cheap motel soap, shampoo, the natural smell of Waylon and sex. He wrapped his arms around the smaller mans frame and pulled him in closer to where they were chest to chest. Waylon right arm was pinned to the bed by his own weight, so he wrapped his left arm around Miles’ torso in return. They laid there in silence for several minutes, feeling their consciousness drift. Miles was torn from his near slumber when he heard Waylon whisper out, “goodnight Miles.”

Miles grinned, feeling unusually happy and content with life. Even the Walrider was calm and silent for once. He tightened his arms around Waylon and kissed his hair again. 

“Goodnight Waylon.”


End file.
